


One Year Later

by enigmaticagentscully



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Background Clexa, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticagentscully/pseuds/enigmaticagentscully
Summary: One year after the Ark comes to the ground, many things have changed.Just one big love letter to Arkadia and to Kabby, both of which deserved better <3(AU where everything up until the end of season 2 is the same, Skaikru becomes the 13th clan, but there’s no Pike and no ALIE, nothing to break the peace after Lexa defeats Nia, no second Praimfaya, and everyone lives on Earth and is happy forever hooray)
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

Marcus Kane was, technically, disobeying doctor’s orders.

Given that he was the Chancellor, and had been for the best part of a year now, there weren’t many people in Arkadia in a position to _give_ him orders, but Doctor Abigail Griffin was one of them. A good Chancellor knew when to admit his own ignorance, after all – Marcus wouldn’t go up against Sinclair on an engineering issue, he wouldn’t fight Cooper on farming, and he wouldn’t dare question Abby on anything medical. In that area at least, Doctor Griffin’s word was law.

But...to be fair, in this particular instance, all she had told him to do was relax and take one day off. Which wasn’t exactly medical advice, even if it came from Arkadia’s chief doctor, so he only felt a little guilty in ignoring it completely. After all, celebration or no, life in Arkadia still went on. There were still reports to be read, problems to be fixed, plans to be made, complaints to be heard...right now he was immersed in a long report from Cooper about crop rotation, and the possible expansion of their fields to the west in future years. He’d have to talk to Indra about it, go over the borders again...

_Future years._ Marcus couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He had spent so long on the Ark thinking of the future as a problem to be solved, and now for the first time it felt more like a prize, waiting at the end of all their hard work. _Future years._

“Are you ready to go?”

Marcus turned from his desk to see Abby in the doorway. He hadn’t even heard her open it, he had been so absorbed in his work, but he immediately forgot all thoughts of crop rotation when he saw her. The world stuttered, just slightly, along with his breath.

“I...yes,” he said, trying not to stare. “I’m just...I’ll be right with you.”

She had changed her clothes for the celebration, which he had expected. She was wearing a _dress_ , which he had not. It was a simple thing of olive green cotton, slightly frayed around the edges, and the skirt had a large section that looked to have been repaired with a slightly different material, but it was still a _dress_ , falling to just below her knees. He could see her legs. He couldn’t recall ever having seen Abby Griffin’s legs before, and it wasn’t a sight he was about to forget in a hurry.

“You look...” He floundered for a word, everything that occurred to him sounding both utterly inadequate and far too much all at once. He finally settled lamely on: “...good.”

“Thank you,” said Abby, looking only mildly disappointed by such a feeble compliment. “You look good too.” Then she frowned. “Please tell me you’re not still reading Cooper’s report?” She strolled in with a look of fond exasperation on her face, casually at home in his space. “This is supposed to be a celebration, Chancellor Kane. A _party_.”

“It hasn’t started yet,” he protested.

“It’s one year today since Arkadia was founded,” she said firmly, “so the whole _day_ is a celebration. No-one else has been getting any work done – some people have been drinking since noon.” The scent of her hair filled his lungs as she leaned briefly over him, reached down to take the datapad deftly from his hand and turned it off. Abby usually kept her tied back these days, but tonight she had let it loose, and it tumbled around her bare shoulders in soft, glossy waves the colour of dark honey.

“Why don’t you stop working for now,” she said, her smile gentle, “and just enjoy the moment? The others will be arriving in less than an hour. Come and enjoy the fun part of being in charge for once. I promise you the world won’t end if you take one day off.”

“Alright,” he said. “You win. Lead on.” He stood up to follow her out of the room, wrapping compliance in good-humoured resignation. In all honesty, he probably would have agreed to just about anything Abby suggested in this moment. If she ever found out the effect her smile always had on him, he would be in serious trouble. Anyway, her good mood was infectious – Clarke would be arriving with the contingency from Polis, and Abby had been walking on air all week, looking forward to seeing her daughter again.

They walked together in companionable silence down the now near empty corridor and through the welded scrap-metal door that now led out to the rest of Arkadia. Marcus felt the fresh air fill his lungs as they stepped outside, and breathed deeply, feeling it clear his head as nothing else could.

Even now, he still felt the strangeness of leaving the familiar rooms of the Ark that he had known all his life – even altered as they now were – for the open vastness of the outside. It wasn’t just the change from electric lights to the warm golden glow of the late afternoon sun sliding towards the horizon, but the sensation of _space_ that always made his breath catch in his throat when he had been inside for a while. Even surrounded as he and Abby were by the cluster of buildings and bustling busyness of the celebration already in full swing, the sky always seemed dizzyingly wide, the distant forest stretching forever into the horizon, the world unimaginably vast, and he himself suddenly very small by comparison.

Marcus wondered how long it would take to get used to the feeling of open air around him and solid ground beneath his feet. Five years? Ten? Would he always find it as near miraculous as he still did now? Sometimes he pictured himself as an old man, trying to explain to people for whom the Ark would only be a story what it had truly been _like_...to live your life in space, with only a thin skin of metal between you and the endless void.

That was something they should write down, he realised. Perhaps not _him_ , he wasn’t exactly qualified for that sort of thing, but surely they should keep a record of their history for future generations? Who knew how long their technology would last, and it would be a terrible loss to have the story of the Ark, how they survived in space and how they came to be on the ground, lost forever to fading memories of second-hand stories as the years went by and those who remembered it grew old and died. Perhaps they could create a book of some kind, something that would last...interview those who were willing to commit their memories to paper so that their children’s children would know where they came from, just as the Unity Day traditions has been passed down through generations on the Ark...it would be a time consuming task but surely there were those who would be interested in preserving—

“Marcus?”

Abby had nudged his arm, jerking him out of his reverie. He realised he had been walking beside her, blindly following without really paying attention to where they were going, and now she was looking at him with an expression that was half fond, half exasperated. It was a look he’d come to know well.

“You’re thinking about work again,” she said. “I can tell.”

Clearly she’d gotten pretty good at interpreting his expressions as well. Marcus smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s hard to turn it off.”

“A Chancellor’s work is never done,” Abby said lightly. She would know, he supposed. “But maybe put it on pause for a few hours? Try and enjoy the moment, Marcus. Look at where we are.”

And Marcus did look, and he would have had to be stubborn indeed not to feel delighted at what he saw around him.

Raven had bullied Sinclair into helping her string up a load of lights on wires around the main commons around the firepit, in spite of his grumbling about the unnecessary strain on the generators. Some of them were flickering ominously, but the overall effect was surprisingly festive now that the sun was going down. It was already getting colder, which couldn’t be helped, since they had come to the ground in early fall instead of the height of summer, but the alcohol was flowing freely enough that no-one seemed to mind. Clustering groups of people chatting and laughing together ebbed and flowed in one great, ever mixing crowd, the warm hum of conversation blanketing the evening – there were old and young alike, grounders dotted amongst the familiar faces of Skaikru, a group of kids organising an impromptu soccer game. There was even what sounded like grounder music coming from somewhere, though who had organised that he had no idea.

Looking around Arkadia, at the buildings, the walls, the people, Marcus felt immensely proud...and found his mind automatically turning to all the myriad things he still had to sort out. He told himself firmly not to think about them until tomorrow.

Right now people were happy and Abby was wearing a dress and work could wait.

“Chancellor Kane.” Indra strode up, looking about as relaxed as she ever got, holding out a hand that Marcus grasped firmly in greeting as he returned her grin. He hadn’t even known she had already arrived.

“It’s been too long,” he said sincerely. “Thank you for accepting our invitation.”

“Skaikru has always been a valued ally,” said Indra, without a trace of irony and an admittedly rather selective view of history. “In war and in peace. And you have the Commander’s favour. What clan would be so foolish as to dare risk offending you?”

“I see you heard Azgeda sent a polite refusal,” said Abby dryly.

“Did they?” said Indra. “How unfortunate. And after Skaikru rid us of our greatest enemy in the Mountain Men. Clearly Azgeda’s gratitude is limited.”

Abby looked uncomfortable at the mention of the Mountain Men and – perhaps not entirely coincidentally – seemed to suddenly notice someone a little way off.

“Oh, I have to talk to Nyko,” she said. “I didn’t realise he’d be here too. I’ll see you later, Marcus. Indra. I’m glad you could make it.” She hurried off with a fleeting smile and a brief touch of her hand on his arm that made Marcus stare after her for just a moment too long. He thought Indra might have noticed, but she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t in her nature to pry.

“One year,” she said instead, nodding at the celebrations around them. “It’s something to be proud of, my friend.”

This, for Indra, was warm bordering on sentimental. “Thank you,” said Marcus. “We intend to make this a yearly tradition.”

“And yet you celebrated your Unity Day not so long ago, Octavia was telling me.”

“Yes,” said Marcus, a little surprised that Octavia had even remembered. “It’s a tradition of our people, but it’s...” He paused, trying to think of the right words. “A contentious one. A part of our history but also something that doesn’t have positive associations for everyone.”

For him especially. Unity Day was now also the anniversary of his mother’s death, but Marcus didn’t say that to Indra. Abby was, he thought, the only one who remembered that fact, and he was glad of it. He pushed the thought aside.

“We wanted this to be a celebration of hope for the future, not of the past,” he said. “And something that didn’t belong to our people alone. It felt right to mark the day that Skaikru finally came home to join the other clans.”

“And so it is,” said Indra. “I see every clan has sent gifts to mark the occasion. Some more sincere than others.” She grinned suddenly, an unexpected flash of white teeth. “Though Trikru does you the most honour with ours, of course.”

She jerked her head to where an enormous boar was already being slow roasted on a spit over the fire, being enthusiastically turned by a small gaggle of young children, jostling to take turns. The smell of roasting meat was beginning to fill the air.

“It’s a fine gift,” said Marcus, grinning back. “And I’ll try not to take it as a comment on our clan’s lack of hunting prowess.”

A year ago, Indra would have been suspicious, or perhaps even offended at a wry observation like that, but now she knew him better and just laughed. “I thought it fitting since we had to provide you your meat the first time I ever visited this camp,” she said.

Marcus’ eyes instinctively sought out Octavia Blake in the crowds, remembering all too well just how different things had been the first day Indra had set foot here, nearly a year ago. And how much had been set in motion when she did. Octavia herself was almost unrecognisable from the reckless girl who had been knocked into the mud by a Trikru warrior and taken on as Indra’s second on that same day. She was talking to Bellamy animatedly not far off, her long dark hair bound in grounder-style braids, her skin covered with tattoos that Marcus still didn’t know enough of grounder culture to even guess the meaning of. She wore a sword at her side as Indra did – casually, and without any intention of a threat. It was simply the way grounders did things.

Octavia and Lincoln had been due – he remembered vaguely – to arrive with Indra, having been staying in Trikru territory recently, and were back to stay for a while, news which had pleased her brother. They two of them were technically residents of Arkadia, but spent so much time travelling around the other clans that they were away as often as they were here. It was good to have them back, not just because Lincoln was a very competent healer who was happy to assist Abby in Medical when his expertise was needed, but because Octavia tended to pick up a lot of news from her travels which she related to her brother, who then related what he had learnt back to Marcus.

It wasn’t that she was a spy, exactly. She never went where she and Lincoln weren’t welcome, and didn’t make any kind of conscious effort to nose out secrets of their neighbouring clans. But she was a useful source of information nonetheless.

Besides, Marcus had grown rather fond of her. He rather felt they had something in common, in spite of appearances. More than anyone else, they had both become new people on the ground.

There was an unintelligible shout from the direction of the main gates, and Marcus turned to see them swung open and the crowds drifting instinctively in that direction. Bellamy and Octavia exchanging grins and heading quickly towards the commotion was enough to be sure of what was going on, and the next moment Abby appeared again, weaving through the crowds, a little breathless, pushing her hair impatiently behind her ear as the wind tugged a strand across her face. She was beaming widely, her eyes alight with joy.

God, she really did look distractingly lovely. How did anyone around here ever get anything done?

“They’re here!” she said.

* * *

Abby felt her blood fizzing with impatience as Clarke dismounted from her horse, the small but well-armed delegation she had been riding with having stopped just beyond the open gate, as a gesture of respect. Abby drank in every detail of her daughter’s appearance eagerly, hungry for clues as to anything she might have missed in her absence. Clarke’s hair was woven into the kind of complicated braids that grounders used for formal occasions, and her clothes, though sturdy and practical for a long journey, were better made than anything even Skaikru had to offer. She looked well, striding forwards with a casual confidence that seemed utterly unconcerned with the large crowd that had gathered to see her enter Arkadia, her serious expression not quite touching the happiness bright in her eyes.

Marcus stepped forward to greet her, as was expected, and even now Abby felt a brief flash of some profound but indefinable emotion, to see the two of them standing together, with the ease of old friends. She could see, from long familiarity, that Marcus was doing his best not to break into a beam of un-Chancellor like greeting.

“Ambassador,” he said, inclining his head in a way that might have seemed facetious coming from anyone else, but from him managed to convey genuine respect for the young woman standing before him. “Welcome back.”

Clarke nodded in return. “Chancellor Kane,” she said, her smile belying the formality of her words. Her voice was raised a little so that it carried to the crowd. “The Commander sends her regards and congratulates you on a year of peace between the thirteenth clan and our allies. She believes that Skaikru returning to the ground marks a new age of peace, prosperity and cooperation for all our peoples.”

She grinned suddenly and lowered her voice to a more conversational level. “Also, Lexa says hi.”

Unable to stop herself any longer, Abby darted forwards and threw her arms around her daughter, hugging her tightly. Clarke hugged her back.

“Hi Mom,” she said, her voice soft. “I missed you.”

Abby gave her a last squeeze and stepped back, determined not to embarrass Clarke in front of everyone. “Welcome home, Ambassador,” she said, unable to stop the tears pricking at her eyes as she smiled at her daughter.

A moment later Clarke was swamped by her friends running out to meet her, and Abby stepped back and let them descend in an enthusiastic crowd, exchanging hugs and a babble of overlapping conversation as they all but dragged her into the camp. Abby saw Marcus out of the corner of her eye, walking forward to meet with those Clarke had travelled with, no doubt to offer to show them to the stables to deal with their mounts before they too could join the celebrations. It gave Abby a small twinge of familiar worry to be faced with the fact that her daughter was someone who was now obliged to travel with what amounted to bodyguards wherever she went, but then...that was the world they lived in, after all. It was better to be sure...peace they might have, but the ground had never offered safety in abundance. And Clarke could take care her of herself better than most, bodyguards or not. Abby gave herself a little shake and left Marcus to deal with the business of being Chancellor while she went to retrieve her daughter.

It was some time later that she managed to finally get Clarke alone, the two of them sitting by the firepit finishing off their food, surrounded by people but able to have a conversation without being interrupted. Abby remembered eating meals with Clarke like this in the mess up on the Ark; there using cutlery instead of fingers, but never having quite enough food to feel really full. She remembered the glare of electric light, the stale, still air. Jake next to them, cracking jokes and ruffling his daughter’s hair. It felt so long ago.

Abby listened gratefully to Clarke’s reports of everything that was happening in Polis, from politics to trade to the new people she had met and the progress she had made in learning Trig. After a long time relying on snatched conversations over the radios – and even that had been a serious concession on Lexa’s part, as tech of any kind was deeply frowned upon in Polis – it was wonderful to learn about the life Clarke was making for herself there first hand, and see how happy she seemed. But there was an edge of sadness too which she couldn’t deny, and perhaps it made her quieter than usual, because after a time Clarke seemed to notice her responses weren’t quite as fulsome as they could have been, and looked at her questioningly.

“Are you okay, Mom?” she asked.

Abby forced a smile, but she could tell it wasn’t very convincing. She sighed. “I just...are you ever coming home?” she asked quietly, knowing there was no sense in concealing her thoughts. “I miss you so much.”

Clarke’s face wavered only a little, regret touching her eyes like a cloud crossing the sun. “I miss you too, Mom,” she said. “And I miss my friends. But...I have a home in Polis now too. I have friends there as well. And I have Lexa. I’d miss her so much if I was here and she was there. You can understand that, right?”

Abby nodded. Her heart felt too full to speak.

“I know it’s hard,” said Clarke. “But she needs me more than you do. And I’m doing good there – it feels like where I’m supposed to be.” She hesitated and then said slowly: “Would you...think about coming to live in Polis with me?”

“Polis?” The question was so unexpected that for a moment Abby could only stare. Leave Arkadia? She hadn’t even considered it as an option before, but then, she had left far more behind for the sake of her daughter in the past, hadn’t she? Living in Polis...she could see Clarke every day, not have to rely on letters and sporadic conversations over unreliable radios. And she could still be useful; as a doctor she would surely be welcomed, perhaps even prized as a valuable resource. Her life would certainly be comfortable living as the Commander’s guest. And yet...

“I can’t, Clarke,” she said, and though there was genuine regret in her answer, there was no uncertainty. “I’m needed here. Even after a year there’s so much to do...I’m in the middle of a million different things, and Jackson can’t handle Medical by himself, not yet. I wouldn’t have the resources in Polis to help people the way I can here, and Marcus couldn’t do without me either. I’m sorry.”

Clarke smiled gently. “I know,” she said. “I get it Mom, I do.”

Abby realised the offer hadn’t been a serious suggestion, or at least not one where any other answer had been expected. It had been more a test, a point Clarke had needed to make. Sometimes it was difficult to recognise her daughter in the young woman sitting next to her; quietly confident and battle-weary, with a head full of politics and plans. Abby had used to see Jake in Clarke so much that it almost hurt to look directly at her – those wide, blue eyes, the open smile, the passionate ideals – but now sometimes it felt more like looking in a mirror, uncomfortable in a very different way. Clarke reflected the parts of Abby that she wasn’t sure she wanted to see.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Abby said, because it was the only honest thing she could think of to say. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Clarke smiled again, obviously more than aware of the compromise in her declaration, but not calling it out. They sat in silence for a little while, both focused, unseeing, on the fire, lost in their own thoughts. Abby wished she hadn’t said anything; she had badly wanted this to be a happy reunion, not one tinged with regret. But perhaps it was no bad thing that Clarke should know that she was missed, for herself, wanted as well as needed. That to the people who loved her she was still more than just the Ambassador.

Beside Abby, Clarke shifted, stretching a little in a casual way, and then gave Abby a sideways glance that filled her with sudden foreboding.

“So Kane can’t do without you, huh?” she said slyly.

Abby felt heat warm her cheeks, caught off guard by this unexpected angle of inquiry. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, aware even as she spoke that it sounded defensive.

“So all the rumours about the two of you are _totally_ unfounded then?” said Clarke, looking as if she was deeply enjoying watching her mother squirm.

“What ru—he’s a _friend_ , Clarke. A good friend. We’re not anything more than that.”

Clarke considered this. “Why _not?_ ” she said.

Abby blinked at her in surprise, and Clarke smiled. “He’s obviously crazy about you, Mom. And I’ve seen the way you look at him. So what are you waiting for?” She looked suddenly anxious. “It’s not...me, is it? Please tell me you’re not holding back because you’re worried about what I would think.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” said Abby quickly. Clearly outright denial was getting her nowhere fast. She sighed. This was in many ways hardly a more comfortable conversation than the one they’d veered away from. “It just...it hasn’t been the right time, somehow,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic an excuse as it did in her head.

“It seems like an okay time now,” said Clarke, gesturing to the joyful revelry around them. Abby looked around Arkadia and took in what she saw with pleasure and no small amount of pride – people talking and eating and drinking and laughing, a small crowd dancing to the lively music that a band of Shallow Valley Clan musicians had donated to the festivities, Skaikru and Grounder mixing freely with no inhibition. The whole scene was glowing with joy and peaceful contentment. It felt like home.

And there was Marcus, talking a little way off to Indra, Kara Cooper and a couple of other Trikru men Abby didn’t know, his face animated with enthusiasm for whatever subject he had gotten on to. Given the company and the fact that Indra was looking rather long-suffering, she could only imagine it was some new plan regarding the joint farming enterprise between Skaikru and Trikru, something which so far had been very successful in combining the technology and expertise from both clans, and something which Indra had no interest in whatsoever. Abby watched Marcus as Indra made some dry comment that made him throw his head back and laugh, his throat bared to the firelight, teeth gleaming, his eyes crinkling at the corners with good humour.

It was good to see him looking so relaxed, so open and cheerful. This was a version of Marcus Kane she would have found almost impossible to imagine just a year ago, but Abby couldn’t have said if it was he who had really changed so drastically, or if it were just the way she had come to see him. Or perhaps both had changed together, shifted subtly as time went by until their relationship now was something she once would have found unimaginable too. Clarke had a point – there was something between them that was far more than just friendship, and perhaps it was strange that neither of them seemed to want to take the first step in defining it further. They had just been so busy, she and Marcus both, and to stop and try to put a label on what their relationship really was these days had somehow just been...put off.

She wondered what he’d do if she just walked up and kissed him, without any warning whatsoever. The stray thought sent a rush of pleasurable heat through her.

Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, Marcus glanced over, caught her eyes and smiled. Abby smiled back, glad the gathering dusk hid the redness of her cheeks.

“Get a room, Mom,” said Clarke from beside her, sounding very amused.

Abby laughed, dipping her head to hide her face behind the curtain of her hair. “For an Ambassador, you’re not being very diplomatic, Clarke,” she said.

Clarke giggled, but then to Abby’s surprise, reached out and took her hand, squeezing it for a moment. It was an unusually affectionate gesture for Clarke, who wasn’t generally the type to initiate such things. After everything they’d been through since Jake, their relationship too had been slowly mending, but the sudden tenderness was still somewhat unexpected. Abby met her daughter’s eyes to see her still smiling, but looking a little more serious than she had done before.

“I know you’re scared,” Clarke said quietly. “But...it’s probably worth it. I want you to be happy too. And dad would have wanted that as well.”

“I _am_ happy,” said Abby. “I am, Clarke.”

Clarke looked at her for a long time, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Okay,” she said finally. “Hey, you know what would cheer you up?”

Abby hadn’t really thought she was in need of cheering up, but she was glad of the change of subject, so willingly followed as Clarke stood up and gestured for her to follow. She was led over to a pile of saddlebags that was being casually guarded by one of Clarke’s companions from Polis, who nodded at her and Abby pleasantly as they approached and strolled off, apparently having discharged their duty. Clarke leaned down and started rummaging around in the bags.

“Azgeda asked me to give you their regrets again for not sending anyone to the celebration,” she said, “and hoped a gift might make up for it.” She looked back over her shoulder and grinned widely. “Roan sent wine.”

Abby felt a tug of motherly exasperation, a feeling so long forgotten that it was almost welcome in its unfamiliarity. “You know it’s seen as disrespectful that you don’t call him _King_ Roan, Clarke,” she cautioned.

“He’s not here, he won’t know,” shrugged Clarke. “Anyway, he’s clearly not that mad at me, because he sent a _lot_.” She pulled out a bottle and waved it triumphantly. “Lexa insisted on having it tested for poison, by the way,” she said. “So before anyone around here starts getting paranoid about Azgeda, it’s safe. Roan’s got no interest in pulling a Nia.”

Abby frowned. She did trust Roan – or at least Clarke trusted Roan, and that was good enough for her – but she couldn’t bring herself to approve of the thought of the wine being ‘tested’ for poison. Since the grounders certainly didn’t have much in the way of scientific equipment available to them, she had no doubt Lexa’s method of testing something was simply to get someone else to drink some first.

Still, clearly poison was not an issue, so at least in this instance hopefully the worst that could have happened was that some prisoners got a sip of some decent wine, perhaps in lieu of a harsher sentence. Grounder ways were something she was still having to get used to.

She took the bottle from Clarke’s outstretched hand. The liquid inside made a deep, pleasing sloshing sound as she did.

In a feat of spectacularly bad timing, Jasper and Monty took that moment to appear as if from nowhere. Assets as they both undoubtedly were to Arkadia, they seemed to have an almost supernatural sense for any opportunity for chaos

“You holding out on us doc?” said Jasper, his eyes glowing as he took in the bottle in Abby’s hand..

“Hey everyone, Abby’s got booze!” cried Monty.

“It’s not _my_ —” But Abby’s protest was drowned by a ragged cheer as more of Clarke’s friends drifted over eagerly, and cups were produced from some mysterious source as the bottles were passed around.

Abby watched them with an amusement mixed with something like admiration. The younger members of Skaikru had adapted far more quickly to the easy excess of the ground, but Abby was sure she couldn’t be alone in finding it a struggle to accustom herself to a world where there was always _more._ More water, more food, more space, resources limited only by the time it took to find them. Crumbled and ruined the Earth might be, it was a veritable cornucopia of plenty compared to the Ark. Even the air they breathed – such a precious, frighteningly perilous resource for so long – could be sucked into their lungs with luxurious ease, the thing that had occupied her every thought for well over a year suddenly almost laughably abundant.

There was a grim irony to it that Abby tried hard not to think about. Sometimes it was difficult to think about the future, and not dwell on the past. She was so used to rationing, hoarding, compromising, walking an endless knife edge of existence where the slightest slip in her control could be fatal. These kids seemed to be able to let go so easily, but for all that she had a reputation as a risk-taker, Abby Griffin had never been unaware for a single moment of her life what could happen if she relaxed her guard.

She didn’t turn her head to find Marcus again in the crowd; what pride she had left was enough to suppress the urge. She wanted confirmation, foolishly, irrationally, that the life she remembered having was not some strange dream, that their shared past on the Ark was as real and solid as the drink in her hand, the ground beneath her feet.

She didn’t want to be stuck in the past, but she didn’t want to forget, either.

“To Arkadia!” yelled Jasper suddenly, who Abby suspected had already been drinking – or something more illicit that she didn’t want to know about – for some time. But she couldn’t help but smile as she raised her own cup, and join in with the infectious good cheer of the chorus:

“To Arkadia!”

* * *

“What do you think, Chancellor?”

Marcus blinked, focusing on the expectant face of Major David Miller, who had been talking to him about some kind of plan for...he racked his brain and realised he had no idea. In spite of his promise to take some time off, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who had been galvanised by the one year anniversary of Arkadia into making more ambitious plans for the future, and he had been stopped by several people over the course of the evening eager to share their ideas for what their home might look like by this time next year, if he would only approve their project. The later the hour grew, the less he felt able to take in any new information, his head spinning with ideas as it already was, and it seemed finally his brain had given up completely, and he had uncharacteristically zoned out mid-conversation.

David at least knew him well enough not to look offended at his inattentiveness; he just smiled at what must have been an embarrassed blank look on Marcus’ face. “I guess maybe I should catch you another time?” he said. “You look like you’ve had a long day.”

Marcus smiled gratefully. “Sorry Major,” he said sincerely. “I suppose it’s later than I thought. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“No problem,” said Miller easily. “I guess you have to be up earlier than I do tomorrow. Perks of heading up the Guard – I approve all the duty rosters.” He grinned. “As I’m sure you remember.”

“It’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t on duty 24/7,” said Marcus ruefully. “But if anyone deserves a lie-in, you do. So I’ll overlook the flagrant abuse of power.”

“You should try it yourself sometime,” chuckled Miller. “Goodnight, Chancellor.”

Marcus nodded and they parted ways, only to pause when he heard Miller suddenly call “Hey Kane!” over his shoulder. He turned around questioningly and saw his friend smiling warmly.

“Congratulations, by the way,” said Miller. “On all this.” He waved his hand vaguely. “And happy...whatever day. You’ve done us proud.”

He strolled off before Marcus could think of a response, and left him feeling pleased and rather touched.

Marcus vaguely considered going straight back to his quarters and falling into bed, but he decided against it, figuring a short stroll by himself around camp might help him clear his thoughts first. He felt distracted, tired physically but filled with a kind of restless energy that he knew wouldn’t let his mind sleep. Arkadia was winding down around him, the crowds thinning out and the music long since faded. Now the babble of conversation was quiet and muted; friends quietly bidding goodnight, stumbling revellers being sympathetically dragged off by the more sober amongst them to sleep it off, couples in secluded corners glued together in passionate silence, blanketed in the anonymity of the darkness.

Marcus saw a familiar figure sitting at the now almost deserted fire-pit, and his feet led him over to her without a second thought. He had the niggling suspicion that he had been, in some unintentional way, looking for her.

Abby had acquired a blanket from somewhere which was draped around her shoulders against the chill of the night air, and was looking into what were now the last glowing embers of the fire with a contemplative expression. When she glanced up at his approach, she didn’t seem surprised to see him, and the thought that perhaps she had been looking for him too was dangerously pleasing.

“Marcus,” she said. “Chancellor, I mean. Still doing the rounds? If you intend to be the last one left awake your dedication to duty is _inspiring_.”

Marcus felt a little ripple of amusement. “I think you’re a little drunk, Doctor Griffin,” he said, smiling.

“And out past curfew,” she replied, with a smile of her own. Her eyes were dark, heavy lidded. “Are you going to report me?”

Marcus felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach. She was _flirting_ with him.

“I think we can make an exception just this once,” he said.

“Maybe you should stay and keep an eye on me?” suggested Abby.

He smiled and sat down at the fire next to her, a little closer than he perhaps would usually have allowed himself.

_Keeping an eye on you isn’t the problem,_ he almost wanted to say. _I’ve barely been able to drag my eyes away from you all night._

“Where’s Clarke?” he asked instead.

“Last I saw her, Harper and some of the others were dragging her off for some kind of drinking game which apparently she still holds a record for, although I’m not sure I want to know the details,” said Abby.

“A person of many talents, your daughter,” said Marcus gravely.

Abby let out a soft breath of laughter. “It’s nice to see her still get to be a kid sometimes,” she said. “I know she _isn’t_ anymore, not really, but...” She trailed off.

“If I remember right, you were neck deep in studying to be a doctor when you were her age,” said Marcus. “I don’t remember _you_ taking much time off for fun either.”

Abby shrugged, apparently unaware of the blanket slipping gently off her shoulders as she did so. “Clarke’s leaving tomorrow,” she said quietly.

“So soon?” Marcus couldn’t help but feel disappointed on Abby’s behalf. She was always so happy to see her daughter, and Clarke was able to visit so infrequently, he had assumed she would be here for a few days at least. Marcus wished he’d been able to get a chance to talk to her himself too. He was fond of Clarke; they all owed her a great deal, and he had meant to quiz her on the news from Polis that might not have come to them through more official channels.

Politics. He wished he could turn off that part of his brain, sometimes. Though perhaps it was a safer voice to listen to than his other, less professional impulses that threatened to distract him at this present moment.

“I’m going with her,” said Abby.

Marcus felt as though the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet, even though he was sitting down. He struggled to bring words to his lips, and perhaps that was a good thing, because before he could even behind to formulate a reply to this bombshell, Abby added:

“To visit, I mean. For a week or two. I want to spend some time with her, and we’d get a better idea of what the political situation is in Polis if I can actually see it with my own eyes. Not that I don’t trust Clarke, of course. But still.”

“Right,” said Marcus, a little weakly, trying to ignore the crashing relief that had left him feeling a bit off-kilter. “That makes sense.”

“We leave tomorrow at midday,” said Abby. “If it’s alright.”

He glanced at her sideways. “Are you...asking for my permission?” he said.

Abby laughed at his incredulous tone. “I guess not,” she said.

Marcus grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining,” he said. “It was just unexpected. I’m still not used to you even asking for my opinion on anything you want to do, let alone permission.”

“You _are_ the Chancellor, Marcus. If you really wanted to stop me from leaving, you could.”

There was something in her voice, teasing as it was, something in the way she avoided his eyes. Marcus felt suddenly out of his depth, unsure how to respond. Did Abby want him to tell her he didn’t want her to go? To admit that he would miss her terribly while she was away felt like far too intimate a thing to say, and he didn’t want to say anything that sounded like a criticism for wanting to spend time with her daughter.

“I think it’s a good idea,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “You deserve a break. As long as Jackson can handle Medical without you for a while.”

“It’ll be a good test of the new medics,” said Abby vaguely. “And Jackson can do anything I can, he just doesn’t believe he can. He’ll be alright.”

To his surprise, she leaned sideways and let her head rest on his shoulder with a little sigh, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. Marcus tried not to tense at the unexpected contact, sure that she would somehow be able to hear the sudden rapid beating of his heart.

It felt wonderful. _This_ felt wonderful; just being with her, sitting in companionable silence under the stars, with no-where to be and nothing to do. The world felt...soft. Breathless and full of possibility.

He could put his arm around her, he thought. That wouldn’t be too much, surely? It was something a friend might do. Her hair smelt of wood-smoke. He tried not to think about the quiet, startlingly intense eroticism of her bare shoulders, and what it might feel like to kiss them.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” asked Abby, and it was all Marcus could do not to jump at the sudden intrusion into his musings. “For all of this? You said you were trying to think of something official, and people have been asking.”

“Oh...yes. No.” His words stumbled into place unwillingly as he tried to drag his thoughts back to something which no longer seemed at all important right now. “A few ideas.”

Abby raised her head from his shoulder, and it was all he could do not to heave a sigh at the loss of her. “Well, lay them on me,” she said, apparently utterly unaware of the cartwheels his heart was turning as she shifted back to a more upright position. “Let’s hear what you have.”

“Homecoming day?” said Marcus, picking one at random.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Abby wrinkle her nose in disgust, which he supposed was a fair response.

“Fall day?” he suggested.

She seemed to consider this for a moment and then said: “I don’t know, it makes the whole thing sound a bit too...accidental.”

“Reunion Day?”

“Well, you’ve got a year to come up with something,” said Abby.

Marcus chuckled, unoffended. Even now it felt like a small miracle that they could fall into such easy conversation as this, that he had the ability to make her feel comfortable in his presence, to make her smile. He saw her smile even in his dreams, sometimes.

Abby yawned widely, rising her hand to stifle it and looking a little self-conscious, and Marcus made an effort to shift his brain back into something like a responsible Chancellor mode.

“If you’re leaving at dawn, you should get some sleep,” he said, a touch regretfully.

“So should you,” pointed out Abby. She smiled. “Walk me back?”

“Well, since it’s on the way,” he smiled back, his heart full of quiet, uncomplicated happiness. He stood up and offered her a hand – that too, surely, was something a friend might do – and she took it gratefully, allowing herself to be half pulled to her feet. They walked back through the camp to the metal shell of the fallen Ark, a mirror of hours before when she had come to bring him outside. It was, Marcus imagined, a familiar sight by now to the people of Arkadia: the two of them walking side by side. The thought made him immensely glad.

“So did you corner Indra about expanding the western fields?” asked Abby, casually stifling another yawn as they walked. “I saw you talking her ear off earlier.”

“Guilty as charged,” said Marcus. “She’s agreed to meet in the next few days.”

“You’re really incapable of stopping working for a minute, aren’t you?” Abby said, with gentle admonition. “You’re only lucky Sinclair got to me before he found you – he was talking about some kind of plan for a new radio tower. I practically had to beg him to just put it off for one more night. You know what he’s like when he has a new project. You two are as bad as each other.”

“There’s always more to do,” said Marcus. “Arkadia’s still a work in progress.”

“You’re telling me. The light in my bedroom has been busted for weeks, I have to keep getting dressed in the dark.”

Marcus chuckled. “I’ll add it to the very top of my list,” he said gravely.

“Just don’t work too hard while I’m gone, okay?” said Abby, and her voice had softened a little; there was a hint of affection in it that tugged sharply at something in his chest. “Try to remember to eat and sleep occasionally. Doctor’s orders.”

He wasn’t sure what to do with the fondness in her voice, so he hesitated just a little too long over his response. “I promise,” he said finally, trying his best to sound careless.

“Well, this is me,” said Abby, halting her steps.

Marcus stopped a little too abruptly, embarrassed without knowing why for almost having missed the fact that they had indeed arrived at Abby’s quarters. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know where she slept. He had come to find her here often enough, and his thoughts lingered here more frequently still. He wasn’t sure what had come over him tonight; he kept feeling wrong footed and awkward, as though he were in a play where he’d forgotten half his lines.

He turned to frame some appropriate phrase and suddenly he realised how much closer Abby was standing than he had thought, how very alone they were, the soft, open, slightly anxious expression in her eyes.

_She wants me to kiss her._

The thought arrived fully formed and startling in his mind, quickening his pulse into a frantic tempo. Suddenly he felt as though he might be in a dream; even standing so close – when had she ever been so close? – he could catch only glimpses of her. Eyes, lips, breath. The rise and fall of her chest. The fluttering wisps of her hair around her face.

Marcus stepped back, on pure instinct rather than any intention. For a moment he imagined he saw something like disappointment in Abby’s eyes, or perhaps resignation. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well...goodnight,” he said.

Abby glanced up at him through her lashes. “Goodnight, Marcus,” she murmured, her voice soft and throaty. Then she turned away and went into her quarters, closing the door behind her with a soft _click_ and leaving Marcus blinking stupidly at the space where she’d been. He felt slightly giddy, as though he’d been the one drinking, and he walked slowly back to the Chancellor’s rooms – _his_ rooms – hardly noticing where he was going, his mind whirling.

It was late enough that you could call it early morning, but once he was safely inside he found himself pacing in circles, too restless to sleep. He half wanted to convince himself that he had imagined the whole thing, except on some level he knew that in order to do that he would have to convince himself he’d been imagining a whole lot more over the last year as well.

Marcus wasn’t an idiot; he knew that things between he and Abby had changed since coming to the ground. Changed in a _good_ way, or at least that was how he hoped she saw it too. On the Ark their relationship could hardly have been worse, and if it had taken extreme circumstances for them to cast their differences aside and frankly be _forced_ to work together, he didn’t think it was any less cause to be thankful for it. Whatever the reason, he was deeply relieved that they were no longer constantly at each other’s throats.

And if that had been the end of it, everything would have been fine. Except he could no longer fool himself into thinking it was.

Marcus groaned aloud, a soft sound of frustration that melted into the silent air of the room. He was _really_ in trouble. The truth was that there was a line between a professional friendship and something else, and Marcus had long since crossed it. Abby respected and trusted him these days, and he appreciated that more than he could say, but it was getting increasingly difficult to control the way he thought about her. To take advice from her and defer to her expertise as a doctor and keep his mind from wandering to subjects such as what it would feel like to kiss every inch of Doctor Griffin’s soft, warm skin.

The attraction, he thought, had always been there, simmering below the surface, even when they _had_ been at each other’s throats on the Ark. There had always been something between them, the magnetic push and pull of two personalities too big to comfortably share a room. That tension that was strangely addictive; the way they had enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons, scoring points off each other. Even at their most antagonistic, Marcus had never in his life been _indifferent_ towards Abby Griffin.

But this...this was different. There was a quiet, easy intimacy that had grown between them in the last year that was unlike anything he had felt before, not just with her, but with _anyone._

And just the thought of her leaving had felt like a hole punched through his chest.

He eventually got undressed and into bed, and lay there alternating between trying not to think about the issue at all, and the growing realisation that he would have to _do_ something about it sooner or later, or he was going to end up making a complete idiot of himself one of these days.

The trouble was that he hadn’t any idea where to start. How could he find the right moment, the right words, to tell Abby that he cared for her more than he would ever have dreamed he could, that she had become the most important person in his life, that he wanted...

What? More than they had? More than she had already given him? It felt like greedy arrogance to _want_ anything. He already owed her more than he could ever repay, and he had so little to offer. He would always be a living, breathing reminder of her past, and though she might have forgiven him for his worst sins, she couldn’t have forgotten them.

It had only been a year. It might take a lifetime.

It was a long time before he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Polis was like nothing Abby had ever experienced.

She had visited before, several times, and the first time she had come here – when she had been Chancellor herself, strange though the thought was now – it had been almost overwhelming. The sheer, teeming life of the place, the people coming and going, buying and selling, meeting and building a home and just passing through. In some ways the city had a daily rhythm almost like Arkadia, but though it was home to many, it was not only one clan here but a place where all peoples could mix freely, a testament to the need that humans had to build communities and bonds with each other even when war between them was a not-so-distant memory. Podakru traders brought fresh fish to the market every morning, Sangedakru travellers chatted to each other in their own slang that no-one else seemed to understand, Trikru and Azgeda warriors eyed each other suspiciously in the street and reached instinctively towards weapons that they were forbidden to carry. One thing Abby thought she would never get used to on the ground was the sight of so many people she just didn’t _know_ ; the idea that she might pass someone in the square and simply never see them again was hard to wrap her head around. It made the Ark seem insular, Arkadia even more so.

_Oh brave new world, that has such people in it_ , Abby thought ruefully, whenever she went out into the city with Clarke. It was a hell of a thing, to live your whole life thinking that what you knew was the world entire, and then to find out that you had been the outcasts all along. Skaikru were the outsiders here, if anyone was, and whether she was out and about in the city or in the tower meeting people Clarke thought she should be introduced to, she was recognised immediately as one of them and treated with an according mixture of respect and caution.

On a personal level it was a surprise, and something of an embarrassment, to realise she was considered...well, a _catch._ Or at the least a potential conquest. Abby supposed if she had really thought about it, it shouldn’t have been that unexpected. She was Clarke’s mother after all – and Clarke had Lexa’s ear as well as being Ambassador in her own right to one of the most powerful clans, in terms of tech if not in numbers. And Abby discovered that she had a reputation of her own that she hadn’t been aware of; news of the Skaikru healer who had brought the Reapers back from the dead had spread, and the people of Polis tended to be better informed than most.

And so at occasions where she was invited to dine with the Commander and other notable people of power, Abby found herself being plied with wine by both men and women alike, and listened to attentively on whatever subject she chose to talk about. Clarke found it very funny, Lexa seemed to find it utterly ordinary. For her part, Abby found the whole thing disconcerting.

Of course she was in no position to judge. Things hadn’t been so different on the Ark – sex and power were inextricably intertwined wherever you went. Human nature. After all, as an unmarried high-ranking Council member, Marcus used to have admirers hanging off his every word back in the day, and he had been a total asshole.

Abby sighed. It was the last day of her stay in Polis, and her thoughts still always seemed to lead back to Marcus, wherever they started out. She had been poignantly reminded during her time here, caught among squabbling Ambassadors and political machinations, of her time as a Councillor on the Ark. Most of the old Council had been killed even before Skaikru had come to the ground, had died along with their people in space, as they had once believed they all would. Thelonius had made it down against all odds, but he was more than likely dead too, though it pained her to think of it. He had never come back from his journey to find the City of Light, nor had anyone he’d convinced to travel with him (though Abby had the strangest feeling she had seen John Murphy in the market the other day with a grounder girl, which could only have been a trick of her eyes).

That meant that she and Marcus were the last two left of the old Council, the last remnants of Ark authority. In a couple of years’ time, according to their traditional laws, Chancellor Kane would have to call an election, and there was a strong possibility he would be voted out in favour of a new leader. Although the fact that no early election had yet been demanded by their people boded well for his chances if anyone cared to challenge him for leadership of Skaikru – he had, after all, only been Chancellor pro-tempore when Abby herself had stepped down, but their people clearly seemed happy enough with the job he was doing. She wondered if Marcus even _wanted_ to be Chancellor. Strange, after so many years of doing everything in her power to stop him from getting the job, she found it difficult to imagine him doing anything else.

She would see him again tomorrow, and perhaps that was part of what made it so difficult for her to concentrate on the book she was trying to read – she had discovered they were traded by grounders as valuable luxuries, and the Commander’s library was extensive, supposedly started by Becca Pramheda herself – as she waited for Clarke and Lexa to join her. Since it was Abby’s last night here, they were going to dine together, the three of them, something Abby understood was very important to Clarke.

But when the door to the rooms she had been given finally opened, it was only Lexa who appeared, entering with a nod of greeting.

“Clarke will be joining us soon,” she said. “She’s held up.”

Abby nodded as she watched Lexa stride over to the window and rest her hand on the ledge, looking out over the city. She always felt a little uncomfortable being alone with Lexa, and wondered if the Commander too always felt like they had nothing much to say to each other, or if she was just naturally a woman of few words. It was strange, to feel so distant from someone her daughter loved so dearly, but perhaps that was a testament to the strength of their relationship – Clarke clearly saw a side of Lexa that no-one else did. Abby could understand that, at least.

“I hope your new apprentices are prepared for the journey tomorrow,” said Lexa. “I’m told the weather is likely to be unpleasant. And their stay with your people will be a long one.”

“As long as they want it to be,” said Abby. She had spoken to the apprentice healers in question not a few hours ago, and was indeed a little nervous about travelling with them, since she didn’t know any of them well and one spoke only a little English and mostly Trig, which she had never got the hang of. On the way here she had been travelling with Clarke as well as her guards, but although the journey back would be just as heavily armed, it wouldn’t be as companionable. “Three isn’t what I’d hoped for, but it’s a start at least,” she said. “I wanted to take an apprentice from every clan if I could. To spread the knowledge as far as possible.”

“Some are more suspicious than others,” said Lexa. “They need to see the benefits first.”

Dragging them out of a medieval level of medicine should be a good enough benefit for everyone, Abby would have thought, but she didn’t say as much out loud. Maybe it was a lot to ask for the other clans to trust Skaikru to change the ways of healing they’d had for generations since the bombs fell. But she really did intend it to be an exchange of ideas; Lincoln and Nyko had been invaluable in sharing their knowledge of grounder healing methods using the resources they had at hand, and Abby saw Skaikru’s more advanced medical techniques as something they could give back in return. Their success with the Reapers had gone a long way to convincing the other clans that they had something to offer, but the enduring suspicion of technology that was the legacy of the Mountain Men was hard to shake. The loss of Mount Weather as a resource had been a blow but Abby was determined to do the best she could with what they had.

“We want to help the coalition however we can,” Abby said diplomatically. “But Skaikru won’t force anyone’s hand. I hope they’ll all see the benefits when their healers return to their clans to pass on whatever I’m able to teach them.”

“It helps that you ask for nothing in return,” said Lexa.

“Chancellor Kane believes we’re still earning our place in this world,” said Abby. “We’re looking to make allies, not put others in our debt.”

“And you?”

Abby smiled. “I’m a healer,” she said. “I just want to help whoever I can. I’m looking forward to getting back to Arkadia where I can be of some use again.”

“You don’t like it here,” said Lexa, and Abby winced internally, suddenly aware of how tactless she might have seemed.

“You’ve been very generous,” she said sincerely. “I’m glad to have had this time with Clarke and I couldn’t have asked for anything more while I’ve been a guest here.”

“But?”

“But I prefer to be working.” Abby smiled ruefully. “I’m not a very good guest, I’m afraid. I hate having people running around after me, doing everything for me. And Polis is a remarkable place, but it’s not...”

“Home,” finished Lexa for her, and she smiled too, in the careful, reserved way that she had. “Your home is in Arkadia, of course. Another remarkable place.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment, just the truth,” said Lexa easily. “We owe a lot to your people, though few would admit it.”

“We owe a lot to you too,” said Abby, which was a big concession coming from her, though she would never admit _that_ out loud either. In truth, it had taken her a long time to forgive Lexa for what she’d done to Clarke at Mount Weather, far longer than it had taken Clarke herself. But since then Lexa had done more than they could ever have hoped to atone for that betrayal, to bring Skaikru into her coalition at great personal and political risk to herself, and Abby wasn’t ignorant of that.

And Abby knew better than anyone what it was to betray someone you loved to serve a greater good. Lexa deserved a second chance as much as any of them did, and if she wasn’t always an easy person to understand, she was someone who could not help but command respect.

So it was with genuine regret that Abby realised Lexa had clearly noticed her restlessness in Polis. As wonderful as it had been to spend some time with Clarke – talking with her, eating with her, walking through the market with her, meeting her friends – it was bittersweet to see her daughter so happy and at home in a place where Abby never would be. And she couldn’t help but feel out of place here herself. The last few days especially she had found her thoughts turning back to Arkadia; her workload in Medical, whether a patient of hers had gone into labour yet, her own room and her own bed, the view of the forest and the mountains...

And of course the people. Raven cracking jokes with Jasper and Monty at the bar after a long day, Sinclair’s endless plans for improvements to the camp that always sounded mad and yet he always managed to pull off, Jackson’s smile as he greeted her in the morning, Nathan Miller poking fun at his dad as they came off guard duty together.

And Marcus. Strolling through camp; here taking a quick glance at a report, here being stopped by a couple of people eager for his opinion on some new project, here pausing to smile and joke with a hard working builder or exchange a few words with a passing guard. The way he ran his hand through his hair when he thinking hard about something, or uncertain. The way he spoke, measured and sure, the indefinable air of authority that had settled on his shoulders and suited him as though he had worn it all his life. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her.

Abby felt warmth flood her body just at the memory of it, along with a restless longing that wasn’t hard to define.

“Can I ask you something, Commander?” she said suddenly. “Are you...happy?”

Lexa had been gazing out of the window again, but at the question she turned, eyebrows raised. For the first time since Abby had known her, she looked startled. Abby was a little surprised herself at having asked; she hadn’t known she was going to until the words were out of her mouth. And it was a hell of a personal question to ask someone who she felt she didn’t know all that well. But she realised she had been thinking about it ever since that conversation with Clarke back at Arkadia, and if anyone knew what it was to feel set apart from others, alone in a crowd, it would be the Commander.

Lexa regarded her thoughtfully, and Abby was relieved to see she hadn’t taken insult or decided to simply ignore her. She seemed to understand the importance of the question, however clumsily phrased.

“Sometimes it feels like a risk, just to say it aloud,” she said finally. “But yes.”

Abby swallowed, feeling suddenly oddly vulnerable. “Does it frighten you too?” she asked quietly.

Lexa smiled; a rare, gentle thing. “Sometimes,” she said.

She turned back to the window, her silhouette lit by the glow of sunset. Abby watched her for a long moment, thinking how easy it was to forget, sometimes, how young the Commander was.

A few minutes later Clarke returned, full of apologies about the Trishanakru Ambassador having waylaid her to talk about a trade of livestock she had been trying to arrange for weeks, and they settled down to a late meal, drawn into easy conversation about Skaikru’s plans for expansion, and what news Abby should take back to Arkadia with her. The time slipped by as the sun slipped below the horizon, replaced by flickering candlelight as they talked into the night; the two Griffin women of the Ark and the Commander of the ground, creating the future together not with blood spilled and battles fought, but with nothing more than words.

* * *

The day Abby was due to return from Arkadia dawned slate-grey and blustery, the first real signs of the oncoming winter creeping with icy fingers into the air. Marcus found it difficult to concentrate on his work, though he was busy as ever – his mind kept wandering to whether or not Abby would have set off from Polis yet, and when they might expect her. On foot, the journey would take the best part of a day, but she had insisted that they couldn’t spare one of their three working vehicles simply to save a bit of time when they were needed far more urgently for farming and construction projects, and Marcus had been forced to reluctantly agree. The route from Polis was a safe and well travelled one, and Abby would be with both grounder guards and her new healer apprentices that she hoped to train up, so there was a low risk of trouble on the road.

That was a good idea, the apprentices, and something they had been talking about for a while. Abby was stretched thin in Medical even with Jackson’s help and that of the few Arkadians who had volunteered to be trained as emergency medics, and as their population grew it made sense to ensure there were enough people with medical knowledge around to bear the strain. Bringing in members of other clans, Marcus knew, was the first step in Abby’s ultimate goal to establish some form of hospital in Arkadia that would be open to all, with doctors enough to treat anyone who needed it insofar as they had the resources to do so. The grounders were skilled in making medicines from what they had, setting broken bones and treating minor injuries, but they were limited by their level of technology, and Marcus knew it gnawed at Abby to know there were sick and injured people out there in the world who might survive if only they had somewhere safe and sterile to be treated, by people with enough diagnostic equipment and experience to identify what was wrong and what could be done about it. And being one of – as far as they knew – the entire world’s only two trained surgeons was something of a heavy responsibility.

It was a project Abby was passionate about, and Marcus approved of it, but he did hope her new apprentices wouldn’t simply add to her workload in the short-term.

He had kept himself busy these past two weeks, very aware that he wanted something to show for himself when Abby returned, and that this new page in what would one day be Arkadia’s history was an opportunity to think about where they really wanted to be in another year’s time. He wouldn’t be Chancellor forever, after all, and when his term was done he wanted something to show for that, too.

He’d rounded up Sinclair and Raven together the day after the celebration, the two of them being the top of his list for similar meetings that would include Kara Cooper and David Miller and anyone else who was always coming to him with plans for things and ideas for the future of their little society.

“What you’ve achieved in the last year has been remarkable,” he told them, as they listened somewhat apprehensively. “But we’ve been spending most of our efforts on just getting the basics in this camp up and running, and fixing whatever breaks. Now I want to start pushing forward again. It’s not enough just to keep ourselves alive, I know we can do better than that.” He looked from one to the other, hoping they would catch the enthusiasm he felt, the sense of possibility. “I want to hear what we need, why we need it and what it’ll take to make it happen,” he said. “No more just running off to work on whatever project captures your imagination; we’re going to formulate an actual long-term plan for Arkadia’s expansion, and part of that is going to be prioritising. I’m going to authorise scavenging parties further south for things we can’t produce ourselves once Clarke has worked out a deal for passing through other clan’s territories, which means we’ll need more vehicles for longer range missions. Raven, that’s your department; just let me know what you need to make it happen. Anything else that isn’t routine maintenance comes through me, but I want to focus on increasing our power generation and laying the infrastructure to support the size of our community as it grows. This time next year I want us to be able to look back on what we achieved and be proud of how far we’ve come. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Sinclair had said, looking slightly taken aback.

“If this is what he’s like when Abby’s been gone for a day, this is gonna be a long two weeks,” Raven had muttered under her breath as they left, which Marcus decided to pretend not to have heard.

But it was true that, however busy he tried to keep himself, Arkadia felt like it was missing something vital without Abby Griffin. He felt slightly out of step, as though he were walking round with shoes a size too big. He found, absurdly, that he kept wanting to turn and ask her something even though he knew full well she wasn’t there, kept having to stop his feet from automatically taking him to Medical where naturally he would have been greeted with nothing more than a confused Jackson.

He could have contacted her on the radio, of course, but that was really meant for emergencies, or at the least important business. It was embarrassing in the extreme to imagine calling Abby in the middle of what was probably the closest thing she’d had to a vacation in her whole life, for no better reason than simply wanting to hear her voice. It wasn’t surprising, really, that it should feel strange not to have her around; after all, he had known and worked with her for decades, seen her almost every day for as long as he could remember. On the Ark you couldn’t avoid people even if you wanted to.

Marcus tried to tell himself that he would have felt exactly the same way if Sinclair had left for two weeks, an argument which was not terribly convincing, even to him. The truth was that he missed Abby horribly, had done even after a single day. He missed the person he was with her, the person she had made him. He missed the way they could bat ideas back and forth between them, pick up a conversation where it had left off hours before without thinking. He missed the sense of breathless possibility when their eyes met for a moment too long, the way his pulse jumped when she touched him, even casually, though it sometimes made his days an exercise in self restraint. Her absence, however temporary, was like a tender bruise that he couldn’t help but keep pressing on, just to feel how much it would hurt.

And now that he would be seeing her again in just a few hours, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.

This wasn’t helped by the fact that the radios had been out all day, what signal they could get an indecipherable crackle of static. It happened sometimes, when the weather was bad, something about electromagnetic particles in the air that he didn’t fully understand, according to Raven, but it was frustrating not being able to contact Polis and check that everything was going as planned. It reminded Marcus of how much trouble they had been through on the Ark trying to make contact with the ground, and how reliant they still were on their unstable supply of technology.

The mist of rain had been constant from daybreak, and the wind picked up steadily throughout the morning, sending people rushing from building to building, unwilling to be outdoors for long. It was shaping up to be a foul day to travel anywhere, and Marcus made a mental note to try and set up some kind of better form of weather prediction than relying on Lincoln’s experience when he was around – they really would need it if they wanted to expand their farms, and right now they were far too at the mercy of the elements for his liking. Just another item on his long list of things to do. His thoughts kept wandering to Abby hiking through the rain, to how miserable she must be, only made worse as the rain steadily got heavier as the day wore on.

And in the late afternoon, just as they all started to think might blow over...it got dramatically worse in a matter of minutes.

The storm hit Arkadia like a howling beast, exploding into the sky above with an apocalyptic force that none of them had ever experienced. Rain slammed down in torrential sheets like a hail of bullets under a darkening sky, so thick that you could barely make out the distant, shuddering tree line of the forest, only hear faintly behind the thunder the rending and creaking of pained timber. The wind tore at anything not nailed down, and the residents of Arkadia who now lived in flimsier makeshift structures out in the open fled to the solid metal interior of the Ark wreckage, packed shivering into corridors, huddling on blankets spread out on the floor and wincing at every raw metallic groan of the Ark around them. Lightning cracked across the sky, making the lights flicker ominously and throwing the frightened faces into sharply shadowed relief.

There was no going outside in this for anything less than an emergency. Cooper was going frantic worrying about the effect this would have on their crops, pacing the corridors restlessly as her husband tried in vain to calm her. Even the usual Guard rotation had been withdrawn from the walls, with Marcus’ approval, reduced to two Guards keeping watch inside the sturdy towers at the front gates, replaced every half hour as they returned dripping and shivering to report that visibility was so low that night may as well already have fallen for all that they could see anyone who might approach.

Marcus was staring in vain out of one of the windows into the windswept grey shapes that were all he could make out of Arkadia, when he felt a hand briefly rest on his shoulder.

“They won’t have left in this,” said David Miller. He came to stand next to him, looking out. “They’ll have stayed in Polis.”

_But it wasn’t this bad when they were due to leave_ , thought Marcus, but didn’t say anything. What would be the point? There was no way to know one way or another.

As day turned into night and still no travellers appeared at the gate, none of the residents of Arkadia got much sleep. Quite apart from their fears for the state of the camp itself when this was over, it was common knowledge that their chief doctor had been travelling back and was in all likelihood caught out in the open when the storm hit, and the concern was palpable, not helped by the sight of Doctor Jackson’s pale, drawn face. The man was an open book, and Marcus doubted his own appearance was much more controlled either. He took to pacing the corridors like Cooper, his sleepless imagination whipping up endless images of disaster. Of trees rent from the ground and tossed through the air, of floods and landslides and of Abby lying on the ground somewhere, still and cold, her warm brown eyes glassy and lifeless...

_Idiot, idiot, idiot._ He had let her go as if she were no more important than anyone else, yielded to her belief that they could do without her, that ensuring her travel was as safe as possible wasn’t even a priority. She wouldn’t even have had a radio with her after leaving Polis, since it would have stayed with Clarke as their only line of communication with Arkadia. The capitol had seemed so relatively close, only a day’s journey away...how could he see this as anything but a punishment for taking such a risk? He shouldn’t have let Abby out of his sight without the rover and a team of armed Guards. She was their _doctor_ , for God’s sake, their former Chancellor, and he had been so determined to let her have her own way, to not show any preferential treatment, that he had all but thrown her life away. He had taken her safety for granted, made complacent by a year of peace. If anything happened to her...

As dawn broke, Bellamy and Harper came off their shift at the gate reporting that the storm was finally starting to wane, and since the lightning had long since passed, Raven went outside with a couple more able bodied helpers to do something to their radio tower to try and boost the signal. Whatever it was seemed to work, as when she returned she fiddled about with the radio for a few minutes and then handed it to Marcus as it finally crackled into life, and he heard Clarke’s voice on the other end, faint but understandable. She had obviously been trying to get through to them for some time as well, which wasn’t a good sign.

Marcus clutched the radio to his ear, his fingers curled white around it. “Clarke, please tell me your mother is still there with you,” he said, without preamble.

“What? No, she should be back in Arkadia...they left yesterday morning...”

The quickening of his pulse was so sudden it was as though a jolt of adrenaline had been pushed directly into his veins. Marcus could feel his heart slamming against his ribs hard enough to splinter, panic rising like a tide as his last faint hope that Abby was still safe in Polis crumbled. It was an effort to draw enough breath into his lungs even to speak again, and impossible to keep his voice even.

“You haven’t seen her? Heard from her?”

He should have said ‘them’, a tiny part of his mind reminded him – Abby was hardly travelling alone. But it felt absurdly dishonest to pretend his fear for every member of the party was equal, not when every nerve and sinew in his body was all but screaming her name.

“No,” said Clarke, and he could hear the fear creeping into her voice too. “Did the storm hit as hard there as it did here? I tried to call you but—”

“The radios have been down,” said Marcus. “Clarke, I have to go, we need to send out search parties.”

“We’ll do the same,” said Clarke instantly. “Follow their route and meet in the middle. Maybe they found somewhere to shelter...”

“We’ll keep a radio on us,” said Marcus. “I’ll call as soon as we know anything.”

“Got it.”

The radio clicked off and Marcus turned to David Miller and his son, who had both been listening along with Jackson, the latter now looking sick with worry.

“We need to leave immediately,” he said. “If they really were out in the open when the storm hit who knows if they were able to find shelter. We’ll take the rover and—”

“No.” Lincoln had appeared as if from nowhere, his face grave. “So many trees will be down after this storm, we’d have to stop every few minutes to clear a path. We’ll go faster on horseback.”

“We?”

“You might need me,” said Lincoln shortly. The implication was like a shard of ice in Marcus’ lungs, brittle and cold. In the time it took to catch his breath, he nodded.

“I’ll go with you,” said Jackson instantly, and Marcus shook his head. “You can’t ride, Doctor,” he said. “And you’re needed here.” _You might be the only doctor we have left._ “You’ll know as soon as we have any news, I promise.”

“Chancellor—” Marcus could tell from Nathan Miller’s voice that he was going to say something he knew no-one wanted to hear, so he turned his head and silenced him with a sharp look that made the young man snap his mouth shut quickly.

“Where’s Octavia?” he asked, turning back to Lincoln. “You two know the forest better than anyone. If our missing people are holed up somewhere...”

“She’s already at the stables,” said Lincoln. “We stayed with the horses during the storm.”

Marcus felt a brief flicker of guilt for not having noticed their absence in the night, nor having thought of the horses for a moment, but there was no time to dwell on such things.

“Major, you’re in charge until I get back,” he said to David Miller, who exchanged a brief uncomfortable glance with his son, but nodded. “First priority is to assess the damage here and make sure everyone’s safe and accounted for, then send Cooper and her people to check on the fields. We’ll check in on the radio every hour. If we find them and need the rover to transport any wounded, we’ll call in our location.” He turned to Lincoln before anyone could make any protest. “Let’s go.”

Octavia had already tacked up the horses and led them to the gate where Marcus and Lincoln met her, Marcus trying his best to ignore the absolute carnage of the camp strewn around him – he didn’t have time to think about that right now. They had acquired several good mounts for the use of Skaikru at some expense – they were the grounders’ only real method of transportation for both people and goods across long distances, and healthy horses were highly prized, susceptible as they seemed to be to mutation. Indeed, Lincoln’s own horse, a creature named Keryon, had a rather ghoulish second head protruding from her neck, complete with mouth and a third apparently perfectly working eye. The other horses seemed utterly unconcerned with her, but she gave most humans pause, and would let no-one but Lincoln ride her.

Marcus had been given a horse by Lexa; a sturdy dun mare from good stock that the clan of the plains riders had gifted her in tribute and she had no use for. He was not particularly at home around animals – if given the choice he would even have preferred the rover – but Octavia had taught him enough to be a competent rider, after Clarke’s insistence that absolutely no grounder would ever take him seriously as a leader if he wasn’t. He was pathetically grateful for it now; even sitting in the rover would have been a trial, he thought, and if he gave his panic full reign he would already be running into the forest on foot. Every second he was here, not out looking, was something akin to torture. The horses wouldn’t be much faster than walking in the thickest parts of the forest, but over the open stretches they would be invaluable, and perhaps make them easier to spot from a distance too.

The members of the Guard on duty gave their group stares of badly concealed surprise as the three of them rode out, hastening their mounts into as fast a gallop as was safe across the open plain towards the tree-line. Marcus couldn’t blame them for being confused – it was madness for the Chancellor to disappear on a hastily scrambled together charge into the forest after a crisis like this, when there was so much work to be done at Arkadia, when there truly was no reason that he personally should be part of the search party. Nathan Miller had clearly been going to say as much. It was at best an unconscionable dereliction of duty. God only knew what people thought, what people were saying.

Marcus tried to make himself care, and found, perhaps unsurprisingly, that he couldn’t. His whirling thoughts had sharpened down to a singular point, and he simply didn’t have the capacity for any other concerns. He’d be useless with worry stuck in Arkadia anyway – he needed to be out, moving, doing _something._

Once they were in the forest proper, progress was agonisingly slow, the usually well worn path to Polis cluttered with debris. Lincoln had been right about taking the rover; it would have been near impossible to get through, and the part of Marcus’ mind that wasn’t blank with fear told him that clearing the routes from Arkadia through the forest would be a long task ahead of them. The forest was a tangle of sodden, dripping broken branches and trees torn from their roots, the resulting churned up earth turned into a swampy mire by the rain.

At one point they had to detour round an absolutely enormous pine that had fallen right across their path, charred black by the lightning strike that had clearly felled it, and having taken down a couple of smaller trees as it toppled. The horses whickered nervously as they picked their way around through undergrowth that was burned to a crisp, and Marcus found himself thinking that if the rain hadn’t been so hard, they might have had to contend with forest fires on top of everything else.

Octavia pulled level with him on Helios as he stared at the charred stump of the pine when they passed it, wondering just how many years the tree had stood before last night, whether it had escaped the bombs only to finally fall to nature’s wrath instead, for the offence of having grown too tall.

“Kane,” she said quietly. “Abby will be okay. She can take care of herself.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, his jaw set tightly, and they continued on.

A little over an hour in, just after Marcus had checked back in with Arkadia on the radio to report no news, Lincoln led them slightly further east than they usually would have gone en route to Polis, acting on a hunch. “It’s impossible to pick up a trail after a storm like this,” he explained. “But if they’d kept on going as planned they would have reached Arkadia last night, so they must have stopped to find somewhere to take shelter.” He paused to murmur a few words of comfort to his horse, who tossed her heads nervously at a clatter of birds emerging from the trees ahead. Marcus wondered if the creature was picking up on her rider’s tension – he knew Lincoln was deliberately not mentioning the other obvious possibility as to why the travellers hadn’t arrived back. “There’s a system of caves nearby which—”

He stopped again suddenly, holding up his hand for silence. For a breathless moment Marcus watched Lincoln clearly listening to a sound that was beyond his own hearing, and then dismounting his horse quickly and quietly, motioning for the other two to follow. They did so, Octavia drawing her sword almost silently, and they moved cautiously forward into a small clearing.

There was indeed the entrance to a cave of some kind, blocky and concrete, perhaps an old subway station entrance. And gathered around in front of it was a small group of people, looking weary and cold, one young man leaning heavily on a broken tree branch that looked like a make-shift crutch. They looked like they were in the middle of packing up their supplies and getting ready to set out, and turned with startled faces upon seeing three people walk out of the forest towards them, reaching instinctively for weapons before relaxing as Lincoln held up his hands to show them he was unarmed, addressing them in Trig so fast Marcus couldn’t make it out. Upon hearing the response – Marcus felt a flicker of frustration for his all too basic knowledge of the language – Octavia sheathed her sword beside him and breathed a palpable sigh of relief. He was on the point of asking her what was happening, when another figure emerged from the cave entrance, holding a hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight that was now slanting through the trees.

_Abby._

All thought flew out of his head; ignoring the startled flinches of the grounders, Marcus crossed the clearing in a few strides and pulled her into his arms, crushing her tightly to his chest.

_Oh thank God. Thank God, thank God._

Somewhere at the back of his relief-dazed mind, he could feel Abby hesitate for a moment before relaxing into his embrace.

“Marcus,” she said softly. “People are watching.”

They weren’t, when they broke apart – Lincoln had hastened over to the injured man, and everyone’s attention was very carefully elsewhere, but Marcus felt a little ashamed of his selfish show of affection nonetheless. Relief had made him dizzy, off-kilter, his thoughts flying in every direction at once.

“What happened?” he said, trying his best to master his emotion and snap back into Chancellor mode. “Are you alright? Is anyone seriously hurt?”

Abby shook her head. “We had to take shelter in the caves,” she said. “Illian slipped down a bank and fractured his ankle, and we had no way of moving him in such terrible conditions, so we figured the best thing to do would be to stay put, especially since no-one really felt like getting hit by lightning or falling trees. We didn’t realise we were so close to home until this morning when we could get our bearings better. We had a hell of a night though, I’m glad to see you. How’s Arkadia?”

“What? Oh...fine. Well, not fine, but mostly intact, from what I saw. It’ll take a while to clear up the damage, and I don’t know how the farm weathered, but no-one was hurt, at least. The walls held...”

He was close to babbling, relief making him almost light-headed, and he was almost glad when Lincoln interrupted them to tell them that he’d given the unfortunate grounder man something for the pain and if they could get him up onto one of the horses so he wouldn’t have to walk, he could make it back without having to send for the rover, since it wasn’t far. Remembering himself, Marcus handed Abby the radio so she could contact Arkadia and speak to Jackson herself to reassure him of her safety, and Clarke too.

This distraction at least meant Marcus had some time to pull himself together, and introduce himself somewhat belatedly to Abby’s travelling companions; there were four besides Abby, three who were to be apprenticed to Medical, and the young man who had injured himself was a Trishanakru warrior acting as a guard for the group. All of them seemed rather surprised to discover that the leader of Skaikru had apparently come out to find them personally, and he only hoped they would take it as a sign that he was dedicated to welcoming them into their community and extending the same protection to them as he would his own people, rather than thinking he was an impulsive idiot.

The journey back to Arkadia, while vastly preferable to the one out here, was almost as quiet. The wayward group of travellers were clearly exhausted, though all refused to accept a mount except for the injured Illian, who was helped up onto Marcus’ horse by Lincoln with a grimace of pain. At least the search party was able to distribute food and water from their supplies among the group, and load up Helios and Keryon with the packs that Abby and her companions had been carrying, lightening their loads for the walk back. There was an air of resigned weariness as they hiked, the danger over but no time to rest until the journey was complete. It didn’t seem the right time for either casual small-talk or a comprehensive catch-up on events, somehow.

For his part, Marcus didn’t really trust himself to speak to Abby without revealing too much. He tried to reach for his stoic professionalism, the mask that used to come so easily to him once upon a time, but like so many things the storm seemed to have torn it away, shredded it. All he wanted to do was hold her again, even though he hadn’t the slightest right. Every moment she wasn’t in his arms he felt the absence as an almost physical pain.

The best he could do was try not to make it too obvious that he could hardly bear to take his eyes off her for the irrational fear that she would disappear again the moment he did. The thought of losing her after all this time had shaken him badly. He had been so cautious about his relationship with Abby, so sure that he had all the time in the world...he hadn’t wanted to rush things. That was what he had told himself. But had that really been carefulness, or just cowardice? How was he supposed to live with the knowledge that losing her had felt as though his heart had been carved from his chest? How could he tell her? How could he _not?_

When they finally emerged from the forest and saw the familiar silhouette of Arkadia in the distance, Marcus could tell the gates were already open and waiting for them. Octavia scrambled onto Helios and spurred him on across the open, clearly intending to prepare the camp for their imminent arrival, and having been frustrated at the slow pace they were obliged to take. Marcus saw Lincoln out of the corner of his eye, watching her with a fond smile playing around his mouth.

He turned to catch Abby’s gaze, and she smiled wearily at him. “It’s good to be home,” she said.

“Yes,” said Marcus. “It is.”


	3. Chapter 3

Abby couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had gotten as much sleep as she should – the twin duties of being a doctor and motherhood, not to mention her seat on the Council, didn’t exactly leave much down-time. Since coming to the ground there had been more to do than ever, and she was used to getting by on a handful of hours a night, catching 20 minutes or so at a desk when she could, being woken at all hours by the needs of her patients.

She’d managed only fitful snatches of sleep huddled with the others in the old subway station as the storm raged outside, and that only because they had all been exhausted from the hike from Polis. Once they had arrived back at Arkadia in the early morning and she’d brushed off the effusive relief of everyone who came to meet her, rather embarrassed by the attention, Abby stumbled back to her quarters and collapsed into bed without even getting undressed.

She woke a little after midday nonetheless, and after a shower and a change of clothes felt almost human again, and all too aware of the amount of catching up she had to do now that she was back. Poking her head briefly outside showed her that the other residents of Arkadia were already starting the work of clearing up the debris left by the storm, under a sky that seemed almost mockingly clear now, a bright, crisp blue without a cloud in sight, reflected in the deep puddles of rain that littered the ground. The air smelt earthy and sweet. People seemed to be in good spirits – in the clear light of day not much had actually been damaged beyond repair, and there was a sense of having come through a trial, passed another test the ground had thrown at them. Abby allowed herself a few gulps of fresh air and made a mental note to find out from Cooper how their crops had fared and whether it would affect their supplies this winter, and then went regretfully back inside to head to Medical.

She was intercepted along the way by Marcus, who came out of Medical just as she was about to walk in.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” said Abby truthfully. “I was just going to—”

“...get some lunch,” said Marcus firmly. “What a coincidence, so was I. Why don’t I join you?”

Abby, realising resistance was probably pointless, allowed Marcus to lead her away from her destination and down to the food hall, where they joined the short queue of people waiting to get something to eat from the man on duty today. They had managed to do without strict rationing so far – the population of Arkadia was still relatively small, under 600 people, and none of them used to an excess of food – but supplies still had to be carefully monitored, so queuing up to receive a standard portion was not so different to how it had been on the Ark. The food, at least, was much more palatable.

They found a spare table to sit at without much trouble, Abby politely fending off a few ‘welcome back’s from the people around them before they settled down to eat. Stew and bread, which would have been considered a simple meal by the standards of the Commander’s table in Polis, but was still a vast improvement on anything Abby had eaten in her whole life before coming to the ground. It was a continually strange journey of discovery, finding all the things that grounders and Skaikru had each taken for granted during their long separation that would have been unimaginable luxuries to each other.

She thought of mentioning as much to Marcus, who she had talked to many times about the subject before, but she felt unusually shy around him today, awkward, not so much from their time apart but from the events of her return. It was strange to be sitting here eating a meal with him as if nothing had happened, after he had literally ridden in on a white horse to save her, like some hero from a fairytale.

Well okay, the horse hadn’t been white. And she hadn’t exactly needed _saving_ ; in spite of his obvious worry about her, she would have been fine. And Abby had stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago.

She had stopped believing in a lot of things. But when Marcus had held her, it was as if something long buried had sparked to life in her chest. It had been a long time since anyone had held her like that. It had been a long time since anyone had _looked_ at her the way he did. The people in Polis, vying for her favour, had been appreciative yes, respectful and genuinely admiring of her skills, but not...

They didn’t _know_ her. That was the thing. There were so few people now who truly did, who saw her not as Doctor Griffin, not as a healer or a leader or the mother of someone more important, but just as she was. Just as Abby.

She was aware now, in a quiet, unsettling way, of just what Marcus Kane had come to mean to her. Of not just wanting him but _needing_ him. It was an unfamiliar sensation – Abby had always been a healer by nature as well as vocation, and she was used to being the one to lay herself open for the sake of others, to take on their burdens as her own. It was what had drawn her and Jake together all those years ago; they were both, in their own ways, driven to _fix_ things. She had never thought of herself as someone who needed fixing, and now she was aware that Marcus has been quietly picking up all her broken pieces without her even noticing, filling the spaces she didn’t know she had. And now, suddenly, Abby no longer felt quite complete without him by her side.

Apparently blissfully unaware of her troubled thoughts, Marcus attacked his food with an enthusiasm that suggested he hadn’t had much time to eat recently either.

“How’s Clarke?” he asked, breaking off a piece of bread and dunking it into his stew.

“Busy,” Abby said. “Busier now I would guess – she said on the radio apparently Polis is in chaos after the storm as well.”

“We’re going to be fixing the damage for a while,” said Marcus ruefully. “We’ll have to think about what measures to put in place in case this happens again. Lincoln said this is as bad as he’s seen it in his lifetime, but we can’t guarantee it won’t happen again. Our infrastructure can’t stand up to much in the way of natural disasters, and in spite of the walls, Arkadia is very out in the open. It’s good for defence from a tactical perspective, not so much shelter from the elements.”

“Mmm, I had some thoughts on that actually,” said Abby, between mouthfuls of stew, happy to take refuge in business. “Not the structural side of things, but being better prepared in the future. We might not have any solid way to predict seasonal weather patterns down here beyond the experience of the grounders, but on the Ark we used to record all sort of data from the ground, and it should still be accessible in the banks somewhere, shouldn’t it?”

“In theory, everything should be,” Marcus said.

“I’ll bet Cooper – Matthew, I mean, not Kara – could program a model that would predict weather patterns based on the data we have from previous years,” said Abby. “It’s the sort of thing he used to do all the time for Farm Station back on the Ark. Remember he was the one who Councillor Kaplan commissioned to write up that report on how much of our yield we could lose before rationing became impossible in case of another blight? It led to that debate over who should be prioritised in time of food scarcity.”

“I remember,” said Marcus. “We had a huge argument about it in the Council Chambers.”

“Well now you’re just describing every meeting we ever had,” said Abby, chasing a lump of potato around her bowl with her spoon. There was a brief pause and she looked up to find Marcus looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

“I missed you,” he said.

Abby felt her face warm at the unexpected affection in his voice. “I missed you too,” she replied, with a little smile.

They ate in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until they were both done eating and stood to take their bowls to wash that Marcus spoke again.

“Landfall,” he said, apropos of nothing.

“What?” said Abby.

“It’s a word that means...sailors used to use it when they came back home from a voyage. Or arrived wherever they were going. When they reached solid ground again after being at sea they called it landfall. It still has the word ‘fall’ in it but...”

Abby finally realised what he was talking about. “Landfall,” she said, testing the sound of the word out, giving it some weight. “A little over a year ago we made landfall...”

“...after our final journey to the ground,” finished Marcus. “We came home.” He smiled, a little self consciously. “What do you think?”

“It’s a good name,” said Abby. “Just the right amount of pretentious.”

“Thank you.”

“We’d better start coming up with some good Landfall traditions if you want it to stick, though,” said Abby. “So far, based on our first one, people used it as an excuse to get drunk and laid.”

“There are worse traditions,” Marcus grinned.

And just like that the awkwardness between them had been broken; the warm, easy camaraderie that Abby had come to take such pleasure in was back as though nothing had changed. Marcus had taken her slightly suggestive comment and batted it back as harmless teasing. Everything was as it should be.

She wondered why she felt a little disappointed.

“I should get to Medical,” she said. “I’ll catch you later.”

Marcus let her go this time, with a vague promise to find some time to meet and discuss her time in Polis, though whether it was from a professional interest or just that he was curious she couldn’t be sure. Abby did admittedly feel a lot better as she strode into Medical for having had a decent meal and made a mental note to try and be more sensible about taking care of herself in the future. Surely Marcus had better things to do than run around after her, endearing though it was. She had caused him enough worry as it was.

“Morning Jackson,” she said cheerfully, as her fellow doctor greeted her with a smile when she walked in. “...afternoon, I mean. Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner, I was talking with Chancellor Kane and lost track of the time.”

“You don’t say,” said Jackson.

Abby decided to ignore the note of amusement in his voice and headed over to check the Medical logs on the terminal, already mentally running through what she needed to catch up on first. She wondered if—

“He’s in love with you, Abby.”

Her head snapped round and she stared at Jackson, who just shrugged, unapologetic, as though he had commented on nothing more than the weather. “You can’t ignore it forever,” he said.

A dozen different denials and brush-offs sprung to Abby’s lips, but all at once somehow they all seemed very stupid. She had gotten so into the habit of pretending nothing had changed that she had expected everyone else to do the same, and why? Jackson wasn’t an idiot, and he knew her as well as anyone. These days he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind to her, either. Perhaps she should give him the same trust in return.

“I don’t really know what I should do,” she admitted quietly.

“I don’t think there’s anything you _should_ do,” said Jackson. “Maybe you should think about what you _want_ to do instead.” He smiled at what was obviously a taken aback expression on Abby’s face. “You can let yourself be happy, you know,” he said. “The world won’t end if you do.”

Abby felt keenly the irony of the fact she had said something very similar to Marcus herself not that long ago. But more surprisingly was the implication that Jackson had made, that had sounded almost close to a...blessing. Even encouragement.

“I always thought you hated him,” she said, a little tetchily, uncomfortable at being on the back-foot.

Jackson actually laughed. “I always thought you did too,” he said reasonably. “But things change. People change.” He gave her a look, half affectionate, half pitying. “Sometimes it seems like you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, Abby,” he said. “I know after everything we’ve been through it’s hard to believe that this” – he gestured vaguely around him – “can last, but you can’t live the rest of your life always waiting for the next disaster.”

Abby looked away. “Speaking of disasters,” she said, changing the subject with less than her usual grace. “What on earth have you done to my desk?”

“Tidied it,” said Jackson, grinning. “I could hardly tell there was a desk under there at all. It was driving me crazy.”

“So you waited until I was gone for a couple of weeks to have a purge behind my back?”

“Sometimes you have to perform painful procedures for the patient’s own good,” said Jackson gravely, and with good grace allowed Abby to lead the conversation back to purely medical matters, as he filled her in on everything she’d missed while she’d been gone.

The rest of the day, especially considering its late start, was as busy as Abby had imagined it would be. Jackson was a good doctor and he had dealt very competently with the usual slew of minor injuries and complaints while she had been away, but he still lacked the confidence to make any real decisions when it came to Medical without Abby’s second opinion and approval. He supposed he saw her, Abby thought ruefully, as a very big pair of shoes to fill, and he was always too aware that between the two of them patients would rather be in the hands of the doctor with more experience. She only hoped that the new grounder apprentices would help to make him realise how far he’d come, and that teaching them some of his skills might force him to trust in his own judgement more.

At least they currently only had two beds in Medical occupied; one was Constance Hadley, who was dying of pancreatic cancer at only 62, poor woman, and for whom they could offer not much more than pain relief, and the other was Illian, the young Trishanakru warrior who had acted as their escort from Polis. His leg was healing well, although he was clearly a little ashamed at having been, as he saw it, more of a hindrance than protection for the people he was supposed to be acting as a guard for. The bulk of the day was taken up with scheduled check-ups and walk-ins; changing the dressings on a healing but serious electrical burn, talking over methods of pain management for a man with persistent migraines, pulling a rotten tooth, soothing a worried mother whose baby was having trouble breastfeeding...the latter Abby suspected would become a more common duty as time went by, because after a year of peace on the ground a lot of people had started pairing up and they seemed to be gearing up for something of a baby boom. More work then, but work she couldn’t feel anything less than grateful for, considering. The new apprentices Abby didn’t have to think about until tomorrow at least, as Lincoln had volunteered to show them around the camp and get them acquainted with their temporary new home before they were thrown into the routine of Medical.

Routine. It was comforting, in a way, for Abby to sink back into it now that she was home, and yet at the same time oddly...unsatisfactory. She had thought, in a vague sort of way that she hadn’t even really been aware of, that something would change when she got back.

She tried not to think about Marcus, or about what Jackson had said. _You can’t ignore it forever_. Abby couldn’t deny, even to herself, that it was exactly what she had been doing. Clarke had been right after all; she _was_ scared. Even after everything she had been through – or perhaps because of it – she was terrified now of upsetting the delicate balance of her life. She was happy, wasn’t she? Content? Could that not be enough? Was that not already more than she deserved?

God, she was too old for this.

It was late when she and Jackson finished for the day, having stayed behind to work out some details for tomorrow’s training, and Abby felt the turmoil of the last few days catching up with her a bit as she made her way wearily back to her quarters. She had never gotten a chance to speak to Marcus again, after all that, and she really should – there was plenty of news from Polis that he would be interested to hear, she knew. He was the Chancellor, after all.

When Abby got in she sat down on the edge of her bed to pull off her shoes, and then stopped, frowning. Something in her quarters was...different. She hadn’t noticed it when she’d been in here this morning, exhausted as she had been, but now she had time to think, she suddenly realised what it was: she could see what she was doing.

Marcus had fixed the light. He had fixed the damn light by her bed that had been busted for weeks.

Abby stood there, staring at it until her eyes hurt. He’d fixed the light. And she knew it was him, because she hadn’t bothered mentioning it to anyone else – why should she? It was hardly important, just a silly minor inconvenience that only affected her. There were so many more important things to be done. And yet while she had been gone he had remembered the offhand comment she’d made, half-joking, and he’d fixed it, without saying anything or expecting thanks, simply so that when she returned she would no longer have the hassle of getting dressed in the dark every morning.

Abby was out of the door and striding down the corridor before she even knew herself what she was doing, She didn’t feel tired any more, not remotely; she wasn’t sure _what_ she felt. All she knew was that for her whole life she had always refused to be intimidated by Marcus Kane. Why the hell should she start now?

She reached the Chancellor’s quarters and hammered on his door, not giving herself a moment to think. It took him a minute to open it, as Abby stood there waiting, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might break her ribcage. When the door swung open, Marcus was looking a little bleary-eyed, his hair tousled, wearing a robe he must have hastily pulled on over whatever he wore to bed; he was clearly at least bare-chested underneath. He stared at her, confused, a small crease of concern appearing between his brows.

“Abby,” he said. “What’s wro—”

She seized his face and kissed him hard, with more feeling than finesse. She was, admittedly, profoundly out of practice with anything that might resemble seduction, and the fact that Marcus was significantly taller than she was didn’t make it easy, but it seemed to have the effect she was hoping for. He made a helpless sound in the back of his throat and pulled her into his arms, his mouth yielding to hers with an instinctive, hungry eagerness.

When they finally broke apart it was with a gasp for air. Abby felt fizzy with exhilaration, warm and wild and breathless, and Marcus looked as though he was having some trouble processing what the hell had just happened. His eyes searched her face; he looked slightly dazed, if significantly wider awake than a few moments ago. When he opened his mouth it took several tries for words to come out.

“Abby...what is this?”

“Do you want me?” Abby said.

She saw him swallow thickly. “Yes,” he said, his voice low and thrumming with heat.

“Then why are we wasting time?”

* * *

Marcus awoke to the early dawn sunlight on his skin and a pleasurable ache in every muscle of his body. He knew immediately that something was different and he knew immediately what it was, but lay there looking up at the ceiling for a long moment, savouring the knowledge like a fine whiskey on his tongue, before shifting carefully onto his side to see Abby lying asleep in his bed next to him.

She had turned over during the night, and her back was facing him, her hair spilled over her shoulder in a tangle of tawny curls, touched with threads of silver. Marcus was torn between wanting to reach out and run his hand through it, press his lips against the smooth, tempting skin of her back, and not wishing to wake her. He lay there instead, trying to map every detail, every mole and freckle on her skin, trying to memorise this feeling of absolute, perfect happiness.

_Landfall_ , he thought absent-mindedly. It was exactly what he had always dreamed coming to the ground would feel like.

Abby stirred, as though reacting to his thoughts, though in all likelihood it was the change in his breathing that had woken her. Marcus watched with the tender fascination of a new lover as she wriggled a little, stretching and shifting slowly back into consciousness, turning herself to face him even before she opened her eyes. When she did so she looked pleased to find him there, as if she too had half expected to wake from last night to find the whole thing an improbable dream.

“Good morning Chancellor,” she murmured. Her voice was soft and velvety with sleep, and immediately became his favourite sound.

“Good morning.” Marcus tried not to let his face split into the wide, jubilant grin that had been threatening to burst out of him and failed utterly. Abby smiled back, a brilliant beam of joy that lit up her face like a slow sunrise, creasing the corners of her eyes. She was sleep-tousled and drowsy and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. Marcus reached out and let his fingers trace the curve of her face, his thumb skimming her cheekbone, trailing down to brush her softly parted lips as she watched him with heavy lidded eyes, her expression softening into one of tender contentment. The inches of space between them felt charged with delicate tension, like the surface of water; the knowledge that he could breach it and kiss her whenever he chose was almost as pleasurable as a kiss itself.

“You fixed my light,” Abby said softly.

He was puzzled for a moment, and then remembered. “Oh. Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you told me it was broken.”

She leaned forward and kissed him then, slowly and deeply, her tongue slipping into his mouth, drawing a hum of pleasure from the back of his throat. When she finally drew back she was looking at him with what could only be described as adoration, and Marcus smiled at her, feeling slightly punch-drunk.

“If I’d known it would have this effect on you,” he said, “I would have fixed your light _weeks_ ago.”

Abby laughed. “Marcus, I did not have sex with you because you fixed the light in my quarters,” she said sternly. “I want to make that absolutely clear.”

“I’m glad to hear it, I’d hate to have to start going around surreptitiously breaking lights everywhere I went.”

“It does seem wasteful,” agreed Abby. “Sinclair would kick your ass.”

Marcus chuckled. His hand, lazily outreached, slid from her shoulder to the curve of her hip unseen beneath the bedsheets, idly mapping the length of her. For the first time in as long as he could remember, his mind felt quiet; she had filled it, edge to edge.

“I love you,” he said, simply because he felt he had gone long enough without saying it. And even though it was the first time he had said it to her, to _anyone_ in this way, he didn’t feel the slightest trace of hesitation. In fact it felt so obvious that it hardly needed to be said aloud. And indeed Abby didn’t look surprised, just quietly contented.

“I know you do,” she said. “I’ve known for a while. It just took me a little while to figure out I loved you too.”

Marcus considered this. “You love me,” he said, trying out the words for size.

“Yes.”

“Will you say it? I don’t think I can believe it otherwise.”

Abby smiled. “Even now?” she said. She reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his brow, caressing his face gently, a mirror to his own impulse. Her hand was small and soft. He wondered if she too was unable to resist the urge to keep touching him, after having denied it for so long. The thought was quietly devastating.

“I love you, Marcus,” she said softly. “I’ve fallen in love with you. I thought it was so complicated but...it turns out it’s pretty simple. I love you.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again, a light, tender press of her perfect lips against his. When she pulled back her eyes were bright with happiness.

“And you have no right to be surprised,” she admonished him gently. “If anything that’s _my_ prerogative. On the list of things I thought were likely to ever happen in my lifetime, I’d have put ‘Marcus Kane falling in love with me’ somewhere even lower than living on the ground.”

“Well, you made it very difficult not to.”

“Oh, it’s _my_ fault?”

“Absolutely.”

“Typical. I knew you’d find a way to blame this on me.”

He captured her mouth with his own again, laughingly, drawing her close, wanting her in a way that was as much affection as desire. Abby was soft and pliant in his arms, making a sweet little noise of pleasure as he parted from her lips to kiss the corner of her mouth, the tip of her nose, her smooth cheek, her jaw.

“God, I could kiss you all day...” she sighed.

“Yes,” Marcus murmured, nuzzling into her neck, exploring the pale, lovely column of her throat. “Yes, let’s do that...”

Abby giggled, twining around him like a vine, running her hands through his hair, eager and playful and passionate, and they lost themselves wordlessly in each other – the warmth of skin against skin, the soft press of her breasts against his chest, the sliding tangle of their legs – until they were forced to part again, panting for breath.

“This should feel strange, shouldn’t it?” Abby said. Her hand stroked his hair idly, her eyes searching his face. “Why doesn’t it feel strange, kissing you?”

“I don’t know,” said Marcus honestly. “I thought about it for such a long time it feels like this is how it’s supposed to be. It was _not_ kissing you that took a lot of effort.”

Abby’s nose crinkled thoughtfully, in a way that was wholly adorable. “You know, I thought this would change everything,” she said vaguely. “That feels a bit melodramatic, now.”

“Glad to know this is all just in a day’s work for you,” Marcus said dryly.

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean.” Abby squirmed into a more upright position in the bed, the sheets sliding down to bare her to the waist, something which she seemed utterly unconcerned with. Marcus tried not to stare, and then realised he didn’t have to pretend not to anymore. Abby raised her eyebrows at him, a smile playing around her mouth. He suspected she knew full well how devastatingly arousing her absolute confidence in being naked in front of him was, but he didn’t rise to the bait, instead following her example and levering himself awkwardly from the tangle of sheets until he too was sitting upright.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

Abby nuzzled into his side, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder. Marcus remembered her doing the same thing by the fireside weeks ago, and indulged his previously restrained impulse of slipping his arm possessively around her waist and pressing a kiss to the top of her head with great satisfaction.

“Well...” Abby said thoughtfully, “you said you wanted to speak to Sinclair about setting up a radio tower between here and Polis for more stable communication, and I know for a fact you have a meeting with both Millers and Raven about their plans to start work on clearing a permanent road for the rover, because they think after what happened you’ll be more likely to agree to the manpower it would need. Clarke’s been working on getting us some livestock so it’s probably an idea to speak to Cooper before she’s blindsided by having to find space for a flock of sheep somewhere – Illian can help with that actually, since he’s laid up in bed for a few days, he told me his family are sheep farmers – and I heard a rumour that you’re planning scavenging parties further west so Jackson and I have a whole list of things we could use in Medical, and he told me that Nathan told _him_ that Bellamy was hinting at wanting to be the one to take point on the teams you send out.”

She took a deep breath and continued: “I have to start getting my apprentices settled into the routine of Medical, and I have a dozen check-ups on patients to catch up on; Leah’s asked to see me as soon as possible and I’m almost certain she’s pregnant, though you didn’t hear that from me, Harper’s been feeling dizzy and Jackson thinks she’s just got a touch of anaemia, but he wanted a second opinion since her family has a history of heart problems, and we’re getting into cold and flu season so we’re going to need more beds, especially for the older residents who might need to stay under observation for longer if they get sick, and I promised I’d look at the samples Nyko sent from the Trikru village to see if I can figure out what killed that group of young men and how infectious it is. And of course I should try and figure out what to say to the kids when I do my talk in the schoolroom next week on ‘staying healthy on the ground’ because I’d hate to look unprepared in front of a bunch of under-twelves.”

She finally seemed to run out of steam and then added, as an apparent afterthought: “And if we manage to fit all of that in, at some point we both need to remember to take a break to eat occasionally. So all in all...a pretty normal day.”

“Sounds about right,” Marcus said gravely. “But there’s one thing you haven’t taken into consideration.”

Abby raised her head off his shoulder and looked at him curiously. “What’s that?”

In one swift movement, he pulled her into his arms and rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him on the bed, the sheets tangling round their feet. Abby let out a breath of startled laughter, and Marcus grinned down at her, stupidly in love, giddy with happiness.

“We don’t have to get up for at _least_ another half an hour,” he said.


End file.
